


i'm going that way

by dangerousaudino



Category: Kentucky Route Zero (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Stream of Consciousness, and a whole lot of other people mentioned, haven't played DnD in a while so my term use may not be all correct lmao, may have also gotten some small game details incorrect, miss emily came to flirt and ended up on miss shannon's wild rollercoaster of emotion, takes place during Act V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousaudino/pseuds/dangerousaudino
Summary: There's nothing left here for Shannon except ghosts. Emily offers her a way out.
Relationships: Shannon Marquez/Emily (Kentucky Route Zero)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	i'm going that way

There was nothing left for her here. 

Shannon drummed her fingers on the picnic table, watching Ezra and a little black cat scamper through the muddy roads together. One last adventure before he left with Junebug and Johnny. He had told her that they were going to look for his parents while on the road, between shows and collabs. Julian circled overhead, a foreboding shadow in the dawn sunlight.

Weaver was gone. Conway was gone. Ezra, Junebug, Johnny, Clara -- would be gone. Will and Cate were drifting endlessly down the river. She didn’t know if she could get her shop back, what with the eviction and all the backrent she owed and holy _shit_ this all happened in one night -- 

Shannon heard a sudden clatter right by her hand, looking down to see a small object skittering on the tabletop. It teetered precariously between two numbers, before it finally stopped rolling after a split second.

“3.”

She turned as Emily slid onto the bench next to her, delicately picking up the twenty-sided die and rolling it between her fingers. 

“What?”

Emily shrugged. “I just like rolling it. Thanks again for giving it to me, by the way -- Ben and Bob want to start a DnD campaign now. There are some old rulebooks that Rita found tucked away in the station once.”

Shannon blinked at her. “What’s that?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.”

“... What?”

Emily paused, giving her a once-over. Shannon considered that she didn’t look in great shape, hadn’t slept at all over the past day. Conway’s jacket also smelled a bit bad, like whiskey and cigarettes and probably a bit of river water from their adventure in the bat c -- _ah_. Hand on the red-hot mind stove of bad memories there. She barely tuned in to Emily’s explanation, feeling nauseous suddenly: “It’s, like, this game? Where you role-play as characters you make, with a leveling system and character stats for different attributes --”

Shannon nodded, but she still didn’t understand. She swallowed, voice wavering slightly: “I, uh, think my cousin talked about that once? She played in college or something. She worked at the TV station too, once upon a time. Then she disappeared to who knows where.”

“Weaver?”

“Yeah.” 

They fell silent. Emily rolled the die again, once, twice. 2. 12. Shannon watched poor Ron, hard at work digging a giant grave for the Neighbors. She supposed _someone_ could help, but the man had hardly said a word to her when she and Junebug had walked over to offer. _Some things you have to go through alone_ , she thought. _Like someone else I know._

“I don’t think I can start a campaign, though,” Emily announced suddenly, rolling the die one more time. Shannon’s eyes drifted back to the tabletop. It landed on a 20. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Actually, I heard you repair TVs and stuff, right? And you do some electrical work.” Emily paused, then continued on casually: “Wasn’t stalking you or anything, but that little kid in the suit mentioned it when I was going through the station’s wreck.”

Shannon frowned at the other woman, not sure what she was getting at. “What, you want help fixing up the station?”

“No, no.” Emily snatched up the die and held it out to her. Shannon slowly reached out and took it. It was smooth and black, the numbers colored in white. It had been a weird surprise earlier, when she had opened up Conway’s jacket pockets to find this little thing faintly glowing in the inner pocket. “I, uh… there’s a station up the river. Much bigger and busier than WEVP had ever been, better equipped. They offered me a job up there recently.”

“Uh-huh?” 

Emily bumped her shoulder into Shannon’s. “They’re looking for someone to replace the maintenance guy. Maybe you could come along too? I can put a good word in, I’ve worked with them before.”

They were very close together now -- not that the bench was large in the first place. Shannon could see a spray of light freckles across Emily’s face in the sunlight, wispy strands of red hair falling out of her ponytail and across her cheek. She was leaning her head in her hand and watching her expectantly, attentively. Shannon averted her eyes.

_You don’t have anything to offer. You don’t have a workshop anymore. You don’t even have anywhere to live. Alejandra left for Lexington because you wouldn’t, you just wanted to wallow here forever and now all you have is an ancient truck that hardly runs and an equally ancient dog, and Conway is as good as dead and your friends are all leaving anyway and fuck fuck FUCK --_

She just set her jaw stubbornly and swallowed down the sudden flood of grief and anger. She had learned to stop crying ages ago, after her parents had died and the company representative had shown up and offered their shallow condolences at her doorstep and _why the hell didn’t I punch that asshole into the next century , why didn't I watch Conway better_ \-- 

Emily cleared her throat, startling her back into reality. “No pressure or anything, if I’m upsetting you -- ”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Shannon noticed her hand was clenched around the die, knuckles changing color with the effort. She slowly relaxed it before she broke the damned thing -- not that her spindly arms were capable, anyway. It had taken a miracle and a half for her to help Conway around after he hurt his leg. Was there anyone buff in their group? She did spend quite a bit of time eyeballing Cate’s biceps while on the boat, and -- _save the unholy thoughts for later, Shannana._ “I repair old stuff, though. Antiques. I’m about as outdated as that guy’s airplane over there.”

The corner of Emily’s mouth twitched as she leaned in a bit. She smelled like lavender… and maybe rainwater, but they'd all sort of been caught in the flood earlier. “I never said the other station was advanced. And they’d have the old guy train you before he kicks the bucket, anyway. I’m sure your skills are transferable to -- whatsit called? _Television maintenance engineer._ A real fancy title!”

“Wow, replacing a dying man? To be another cog in the capitalist machine? I love it.”

“Hey, wait, I misphrased. He’s just retiring to Texas to live with his son or whatever the fuck -- ”

Shannon cackled suddenly. It felt foreign, like she hadn’t laughed in years, but God. So much had happened in one night. So much had happened over the years. She could try to shelve it all for a bit -- let herself run away from all the grief and anger, futilely stave them off before they’d inevitably grab her by the neck and bite down -- _but Conway did that, and did his best to the end, and failed anyway. He almost made it after all these years._ Her heart hurt. “To the old TV station in the sky?”

“ _P_ _lease._ ”

“Sorry, sorry.” Shannon ran her thumb over the surface of the die, weighing it in the palm of her hand. What was it made of? Wood, most likely, but it could also be a nice plastic. “I’m an asshole. I’ve had a rough night.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. “Yeah? Wanna talk about it?"

“... Not really.”

“Cool, that’s fine.” A pause. Emily bit her lip for a moment, before continuing: “I was thinking of leaving later today. Maybe tomorrow. I can give you a call if I get you an interview. I just need to find a ride, pack up a few things -- “

“Your, uh, friends aren’t going?”

The redhead shrugged with one shoulder. “Ben’s got family he needs to take care of. Bob is considering it, but I dunno. He might go back to Lexington to be with his ex-wife again instead, and he’s the one with the truck. Not that that’s a good idea, but you know, he’s a grown man and can do what he wants.”

“I have one too,” Shannon blurted out suddenly, maybe a bit louder than she’d intended. She nearly slapped herself as Emily raised her eyebrows again. “A, uh, truck. Not an ex-wife.”

“... Yeah? Where is it?”

“Bottom of that staircase in the ground.” Her throat suddenly felt dry. The repairwoman pointed at the hole in the earth, where they could see the faintest edge of a handrail at the start of the staircase. “It’s, uh… it was my friend’s work truck, but they’re out of business now. He left it to me…. Plenty of room.” 

Emily paused for a second, but chose not to address the truck thing, thank God. She liked her. “.... You know, this town is real fucking weird sometimes.”

Shannon nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

They fell into silence again, but for a much briefer moment than before. 

She picked at a splinter in the table. _There’s nothing left here for me, either._ “I, uh… I can give you a ride. The truck’s a bit shit but it’ll definitely work, so I can go with you and apply. I know how to drive on the Zero if we need to, it’s just finding it that’s the issue.”

“... Really?”

“Yeah, it’s just like driving on a weird go-kart course -- “

“No, I mean about leaving. I’ve had a while to consider it, but -- are you _sure?_ ” Emily poked her in the shoulder, smiling, teasing. “This is all so sudden for you. I was just shooting the breeze, giving you a possibility. But if you _want_ to go with me, I wouldn’t mind too much.”

_And it’s not even a guarantee I’d get the job, anyway --_

It was Shannon’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “What, buyers’ remorse? Don’t want me around?”

The redhead held up her hands, laughing. “No, no, I’m sure you’re an angel. But you haven’t had much time to think about it, and -- no pressure, no pressure at all.” Emily’s eyes drifted down to the die, then right back to Shannon’s face. “Roll to leave?”

“.... What?”

“It’s a DnD thing,” Emily explained. “When you want to do something, you roll the die. The higher you get, the more likely you are to succeed at it. With ability modifiers and stuff, of course, but that doesn’t apply here -- ”

Shannon nodded sagely. “Ah. Nerd shit.”

Emily lightly punched her on the shoulder, laughing. “Hey. I’ll throw you down those stairs.”

“I don’t think you’re the muscle in your little gang.”

“I _could_ if I’m angry enough!”

“So I roll to decide if I should actually go? If I’ll succeed at leaving? Is that right?”

“Basically rolling for initiative. I’m sure you’ve heard of that, it’s all over the internet.”

That made vague sense, but Shannon decided to needle her a bit more. “More talking in code? I can do that too.” She sat up, cleared her throat, and began to recite monotonously: “Whiskey, foxtrot, tango, ampersand, in twenty feet turn left at the burning tree that’s still inexplicably on fire -- “

Emily sighed dramatically, putting her face in her hands. “I do something kind and it bites me on the ass. I’m not even into that. Roll to kill me.”

So she did. “Good to know. 19.”

The redhead slammed her hand on the table. “Fuck! Just throw me in with the Neighbors. Bury me alive with the rest of this town.”

“ _Neigh_ bors. Ha. Because they’re horses.” 

Emily paused, the corner of her mouth twitching again. “You’re _so_ cute.”

“Damn right.” Were her ears burning? They were definitely burning. “But, uh, I roll to leave. And that’s it?”

A nod. “Yep. But again, you don’t have to go with me if you don’t -- “

“No, no. I want to go… but I….” She paused, looking for the words. She was so tired. “I don’t at the same time, you know?” Shannon rubbed her eyes with her hands, feeling a bit too warm in this jacket. Conway would probably tease her about this, but -- _he’d tell me it’s a good idea, right? His last delivery is done. I don’t need to be here anymore. Nothing here for me. Not at all._

Another Emily pause, and then she nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s hard, isn’t it? Growing up here and then leaving it all behind. But sometimes you need to move on or you’ll be stuck in place forever. Like a living ghost.”

“Like... suffocating. Drowning.” Shannon picked up the die again, examining the ‘19’ etched on the surface. It wasn’t perfectly shaped, like it was handmade with a knife instead of something cookie-cutter from a factory. Someone had lovingly carved out the shape, etched in the numbers, painted it. Conway didn’t seem like the type, but hey -- she’d only known him for a long, long night. “You feel like you don’t have a choice or you’ve fucked up so much you can’t get out. So you stay in place because it’s all you know and it’s safe, while everyone else moves on. And then you sink forever and there's nothing left to anchor you. And then you’ll hit the bottom and you’ll bleed out there, all alone.” _Like Donald with Xanadu. Like Conway._

No response.

Word vomit. Oops. “... Should I pay you for the therapy session? Am I oversharing right now?”

Emily snorted. “Nah. Talk all you need, everything’s fucked up. But you could buy a girl lunch instead?”

“I’ve got twenty bucks and some pocket lint....” Shannon patted her pockets, and -- oh! “And Conway’s wallet. So maybe fifty bucks, but it could be more. Dunno if Dogwood Drive is gonna pay up -- but I’ll get you lunch if the diner hasn’t been swept away.”

“Is he the guy you got the truck from? Did you _kill_ him?”

Shannon jerked a thumb over her shoulder, where Clara, Junebug, Johnny, and Ezra were convened on the steps of 5 Dogwood Drive. Clara was helping Johnny drag up some furniture while Ezra and Junebug cheered them on from the side, hopping up and down. Their little ragtag family, minus a few bodies. She’d miss them. “Do we look like a gang of murderers to you?”

“You know what? Yes. That little kid is probably a fifty-year old criminal mastermind from France. What kid wears a suit like that?”

“.... Sure. Anyway, I’m going to roll now. To see if I’ll leave with you.” _Or at all._

Emily gave her a two-finger salute, smiling brightly. “Good. Thank you, ma’am. I hope you don’t regret it.” 

Shannon stared at her, weighing the die in her hand. Her parents had immigrated to America to give their future children a chance at a better life, but -- they were gone, drowned deep in the earth, just names on cheap gravemarkers and in her memories. She remembered telling them about the racist comments from some white kids at school, how angry her father had been and how her aunt had held him back at the meeting with the all-too-flippant principal. She remembered how little her parents would eat at their family dinners, while piling food on her plate and insisting she was too thin. She remembered her parents dancing together on a rare day off and singing one of those old songs that all the miners knew, jostling her to join in as she laughed and laughed and _it ended all too soon, I grew up too soon --_

The die fell from her hand. Onto the table.

_I don’t want to drown here, too._

Emily smiled. “20.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm going to singlehandedly populate the krz tag with wlw fanfics if it's the last thing i do.
> 
> also how the hell does time work in this game


End file.
